Ampelius and Mark held their breath as a thick blue liquid oozed across the floor from the hallway. Neither dared to move, at least until they felt safe to do so.

  When the orbs didn't return, Ampelius gestured toward Bella, still asleep despite everything. He crawled to her side and motioned for Mark to follow. The sight of her resting so peacefully in the middle of all this, even with the smell of smoke and blood, felt unreal, like she was part of a different world untouched by the horror around them.

  He reached out and tapped her shoulder once, then again when she didn’t respond. Before he could try a third time, movement at the doorway made him stop. A hulking silhouette lumbered past, something broad and heavy, almost human in shape, but wrong in a way he couldn’t name. It disappeared down the hall as quickly as it had come.

  “Something just went by the door,” Ampelius whispered, his voice trembling. “I don’t think it was human.”

  Mark's eyes widened as he glanced toward the doorway. Ampelius suddenly remembered the revolver, thankful they never searched him. He gripped it with his shakey hands, while also trying to steady his breathing. The cold metal of the handle on his palms grounded him, like a small anchor in the storm.

  He crouched beside the bed, motioning for Mark to stay low. The silence between them felt endless, broken only by their unsteady breaths. Ampelius’s mind flickered back to lessons from his cousin.

  He remembered his cousin’s words as clearly as if they’d just been spoken: steady your breath, don’t rush your shot. Ampelius exhaled slowly, aligning the revolver with the doorway. Every muscle tensed, his focus narrowing to a single thought, the moment anything moves, I shoot.

  The anticipation of what could happen next was building up within his mind, playing different scenerios of how he could respond and survive. His grip unknowingly was tightening on the revolver as his muscles coiled like springs.

  Ampelius’s mind sharpened, the memory of his cousin’s training fading, replaced by the reality of now. The fear was still there, crawling beneath his skin, but something else rose with it, a sense of defiance. If the nightmare was coming for them, he’d meet it on his feet and die fighting.

  After several long minutes, Ampelius’s nerves finally gave out. He signaled for Mark to stay put and edged toward the door, with his revolver raised and ready. His breath came shallow and uneven as he pressed his shoulder against the frame, listening. Gathering what courage he had left, he exhaled slowly and stepped out, sweeping the revolver across the empty hallway. It stretched in both directions, as if the building itself had been abandoned for years.

  He faced the reception area where Saul had fallen. The double doors still hung open, letting in a faint glow from the street. The light shimmered off the blue liquid that coated the floor, a trail stretching all the way to his boots.

  He looked down and realized he was standing in it. The cold, slick texture made his stomach twist. The memory of Saul, and the woman from his nightmare all flashed through his mind in gruesome detail. For a moment, it was as if he could smell the burning air again, hearing their final screams over and over. He forced himself to blink it away and focus.

  Then he saw them, footprints within the blue substance. They led away from the entrance, past where he stood, and vanished into the darkness. His pulse quickened as he traced them with his eyes… until he realized they didn’t stop. They circled back.

  A tall, bulky silhouette emerged from the darkness of the hall. It wasn’t standing still, it was walking back. But then it stopped when Ampelius locked eyes with it. He froze in the doorway, while the dim blue glow from the liquefied remains gave off a faint light across the creature’s outline. It was humanoid in shape, but wrong, its proportions too broad.

  His heart pounded so violently it hurt. For a split second, his instincts screamed at him to run, but something else within him rose instead. He raised the revolver, refusing to let this thing decide how he died.

  He frantically pulled the trigger until the cylinder clicked empty, still squeezing as if sheer will could summon more bullets. Each shot had echoed through the hallway like a drum of thunder, but the figure never slowed down, it didn’t even flinch. It just kept coming, unfazed by the rounds, while its heavy steps quickening into a full, thunderous charge.

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  Ampelius kept trying to fire an empty weapon, but it only clicked hollowly. He braced himself for impact, then the creature staggered mid-step and crashed to the floor with a heavy splat.

  For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. His finger stayed on the trigger, trembling as the sharp tang of gunpowder burned the back of his throat. He forced out a shaky exhale, eyes locked on the motionless shape lying just beyond the doorway.

  “Mark…” he called out, voice low and shaky. “I think… I think I got it.”

  Mark peeked out from behind the bed, his face pale and tense.

  “I think it’s dead,” Ampelius said, still staring at the dark shape on the floor.

  Mark followed his gaze but saw nothing, only a smeared blue gel and a single footprint. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”

  “What? No, it’s right here!” Ampelius snapped, looking down again, only to find the space empty. Just the goo. The footprints stopped at his feet. His stomach twisted. Had he imagined it? Stress? Fear? Or something worse?

  “Ampelius?” Bella’s weak voice broke through from the room.

  He turned instantly and hurried to her side. She was struggling to sit up, face contorted with pain. He caught her before she could fall back.

  “Easy,” he said, helping her lie down again. “You need to take it slow.”

  “I don’t think walking’s an option,” she muttered through gritted teeth.

  “Mark,” Ampelius called, glancing over his shoulder. “You got any painkillers left?”

  “Unfortunately, we stashed most of the medical supplies deep in the tunnels. We ran out of what little we kept up here before you two showed up. Someone did make a run to get more, but they never returned. I’m unsure if we can even still access the tunnel from here, but we can try, if you really want. We probably shouldn’t stay here much longer anyway,” Mark explained.

  “Well, that’s just great! What are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Ampelius said, his determination rising.

  “There’s only one problem,” Mark interjected. “We need a key to access the entrance. The person who made the run has the only key, which also unlocks the storage lockers where we keep the hidden supplies. The door itself is easy enough to break, but that would make a lot of noise. The lockers, though, they are very well secured, and I don’t think we can break into them quietly.”

  “When were the medical supplies stashed?” Bella asked, wincing from the pain.

  “They’ve been stashing them gradually over the last several months. We are from an organization that was preparing a major operation in the city against the Roman occupiers, or at least before... whatever this is that happened,” Mark explained.

  “Are you one of these Iron Vandals?” Ampelius asked, his suspicion clear.

  “I’m not an official member, but that's not what they call themselves. That name is all Rome and their propaganda machine to dehumanize us. I was just paid for services as a black market doctor. Anyone you saw armed was an official member. Saul was one of their leaders. Everyone else here was just people trying to survive who got caught up in all this,” Mark replied.

  Ampelius was stunned to learn the thugs who nearly killed him were connected to this place. He didn’t know if he could trust Mark, but right now, trust didn’t really matter. “Fine. Take us to that entrance,” he said, sliding what three fresh rounds he had into his revolver.

  “That looks oddly familar. Where did you get it?” Mark muttered. “Nevermind, I don't want to know. Just follow me.”

  He checked the hallway nervously, then signaled all clear. As Ampelius helped Bella to her feet, Mark walked out into the darkness, which was odd, he didn't wait.

  “What is it?” Bella asked, catching the worry on his face.

  “Nothing, it’s—” he stopped mid-sentence.

  Ahead of them, Mark was suddenly yanked off the ground. A massive figure rose from the shadows, its arm clamped tight around his throat. Mark kicked and gasped, feet thrashing as the thing lifted him higher.

  Ampelius raised the revolver with one hand, but it felt useless as he was shaking. Bella slipped from his grasp, collapsing onto the ground by the doorway as Mark struggled to breathe, choked by something that shouldn’t exist.

  Ampelius froze, feeling helpless as the creature drew a blue-glowing spear from its back and drove it clean through Mark’s chest. Mark’s body went limp, then disintegrated into a splash of blue mist and liquid. For a brief instant, the weapon’s glow lit the creature, this massive, humanoid, and plated in overlapping octagonal armor that shimmered like scales.

  The Zavon, Ampelius thought, naming it without knowing why.

  It turned toward him, unmoving, as if studying its next target. Ampelius felt his pulse in his throat. Enough of this. He raised his revolver and emptied all three rounds in quick succession. The shots hit dead on, but the creature didn’t even flinch, again. The bullets sparked off its armor, useless.

  “Oh, crap,” Ampelius muttered.

  The Zavon started forward as Ampelius dropped to his knees, gripping the empty revolver, waiting for the final strike to end his life. Bella laid motionless nearby, barely breathing. The room shook as a deep boom thundered outside, then a sudden fireball tore through the ceiling, smashing into the Zavon, blasting it straight through the floor into a burst of smoke and flame.

  Ampelius shielded his face from the heat. When he looked up, he could see the morning sun pouring through the hole.

  He let out a shaky breath. “Guess it’s officially dawn,” he said.

  Bella groaned, barely audible but alive. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Guess so.”